


Empty House

by withthekeyisking



Series: Com. Fics [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Brain Damage, Brain Dead Dick Grayson, Coma, Dark Bruce Wayne, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Delusions, Hand Jobs, Hurt Dick Grayson, M/M, Rimming, Sexual Abuse, Unreliable Narrator, ish, mostly - Freeform, not that he sees it that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25774291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking
Summary: Bruce has never seen Dick so still as he is these days. It's wrong; Dick at his core is constant motion, effortless flight. This is against everything he should be.He just wanted to get a reaction, see some of that life he misses so much in his son. He didn't intend to take it so far.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Series: Com. Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872547
Comments: 33
Kudos: 193





	Empty House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nightwhelmed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwhelmed/gifts).



> Here you are, as requested! Thanks for coming to me, you were a pleasure to work with :)
> 
> TO READERS: Read the tags. This is not a happy story. Ye been warned.

Bruce stares at Dick's face, rememorizing the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips. He looks at the way his eyelashes rest against his cheeks, the way they have for the past three weeks without change.

His eyes drift down further, lingering on the way Dick's chest rises and falls with even breaths, and he reaches out to touch, placing his hand over Dick's heart. The steady thumping is a balm on Bruce's nerves, and he stands from his chair, moving to perch on the edge of the bed beside Dick.

This is all Dick is now, after the accident. One good hit to the head and suddenly there's no more of Dick, not the ways he's supposed to be. His heart beats and his lungs continue to draw in air but that's all Dick does on his own, that's all he's capable of. Otherwise he just lies there and stares blankly at the ceiling—Bruce closed his eyes after a little while, too disturbed by how empty they were.

_The lights are on but nobody's home._

They've all been working to figure out what Dick _will_ respond to. It's a very, _very_ short list. If they feed him and massage his throat, he'll swallow. If they hit his knees or elbows with a small hammer, they'll jerk in the way they're supposed to. If they shine a light in his eyes, the pupils will dilate.

But otherwise? Dick is so...still. Bruce has never seen Dick as still as he is now. It's _wrong;_ Dick at his core is constant motion, effortless flight. This is against everything he's supposed to be. 

Bruce doesn't tell the others about the... _tests_ he continues to run. Checking what stimuli Dick might react to. He just wants a _reaction,_ to see some of that life he misses so much in his son.

He honestly didn't mean to take it so far. He didn't mean to keep pressing. But when he started getting Dick to respond to him, when for the first time in _weeks_ his boy starts showing some signs that maybe he's not completely gone—it's addicting.

It starts rather small. Some of Dick's hair falls in his eyes, and Bruce brushes it back. He runs his fingers through the boy's hair like he used to do when Dick was a child and had nightmares, just as beautiful then as he is now. Bruce's hand drifts slightly, stroking the side of Dick's face, sliding his thumb over Dick's closed eyelids, across his lips.

And then, a reaction. Dick's eyelids flutter, his lips twitch.

Bruce calls for Alfred immediately; the doctor at the hospital had said the chance of Dick coming back to himself was incredibly slim, but still possible. So maybe that's what was happening, maybe Dick was fighting his way back to the surface.

But by the time Alfred arrives, by the time an examination occurs, Dick is right back to as unresponsive as he was before. Alfred has pity in his eyes when he gently suggests Bruce get some sleep, that he might just be seeing what he wants to see.

From then on, Bruce doesn't share when it happens.

He continues his—tests, working to see that life in his boy again, to help Dick find his way back to them. He strokes Dick's hair and face like he did before, grinning when he gets the same reaction he did last time.

When he strokes his chest, he gets an eyelid flutter.

When he _squeezes_ his chest, hands cupping Dick's pecs, he gets a hitched breath.

Running his hands up and down Dick's sides gets the slightest part of his lips.

Massaging his thighs gets a downward twitch of his eyebrows.

Days, weeks pass. Bruce keeps this to himself, a secret between him and his boy. When Dick really is fully present, Bruce will tell the others, and they'll all be grateful. But for now, he keeps his—his tests to himself.

And then...

He's rubbing Dick's thighs, watching avidly for the twitches in his face, the small responses that tell him Dick _is there,_ when his hand accidentally brushes against Dick's penis. He withdraws immediately, but Dick—Dick's hands had twitched. All ten fingers had _moved._ Just a little, but they'd moved.

Bruce's heart is racing in his chest. He takes one of Dick's hands between his own, squeezing gently and staring down at them with awe. That's the biggest reaction he's gotten so far, Dick is coming back to him!

Bruce looks down at Dick's soft penis. If—if that's what gets a response...

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and he hesitantly reaches out, wrapping his hand around Dick's penis. He doesn't move for a moment, trying to slow his breathing. He doesn't know why he feels so...on-edge, maybe. He's just trying to bring Dick back to himself. He's just trying to get his beautiful boy back.

He tightens his hand, beginning to move it up and down. Dick's hands twitch again, making Bruce smile, and he speeds up his hand just a little. He can feel Dick hardening in his grip, and part of him feels almost—proud. He's doing that. Getting a bodily reaction, _and_ making Dick feel good. Even with Dick so trapped in his own head, Bruce can help Dick feel good.

He removes his hand and spits on it, then grips Dick again. He twists his wrist, flicking his fingers over the head of Dick's cock, and Dick's hips _jerk._

Just a bit, but it draws a gasp out of Bruce, his eyes darting up to look at Dick's face. The corners of Dick's eyes seem almost...pinched, maybe. Bruce keeps moving his hand, eyes darting back and forth between Dick's face and his hard cock in Bruce's hand. A soft sound escapes Dick, not quite a moan but definitely more than a breath, and Bruce grins.

His boy is in there, and he's coming back to them.

Dick's hips jerk a couple more times, and then he comes, spilling over Bruce's hand and his own stomach with another soft sound. Dick's fingers twitch against the bed before falling still. Dick's breathing is just _slightly_ faster than usual, and slowly moving back to the evenness of before.

"I see you," Bruce whispers, cupping Dick's cheek with his clean hand. He ignores the way his pants feel a little tight. "I see you."

* * *

He does it again, and again.

He works to get bigger reactions, adding more stimuli in order to draw Dick out. He strokes Dick's chest in time with his hand around his penis. He rubs his thumb over his nipples, and then pinches them, delighting in the gasp that actually draws from Dick's body. He kisses Dick's cheek. His neck. His chest.

He presses his lips to Dick's, his own breath hitching at how soft Dick's lips are, how easily they part under Bruce's touch. He's straddling Dick's thighs, Dick's penis in his lubed hand, and he slides his tongue into Dick's mouth, gently stroking Dick's own tongue with his own. He maps out the feel and taste of Dick's mouth, delights in the soft sigh he gets in response. Is overjoyed at the slight _moan_ he gets when he moves his hand just right.

Bruce rocks down against Dick without meaning to, and pleasure sparks up his spine as his groin rubs against Dick's penis. He isn't doing this for his own pleasure, he's doing it to bring Dick back to him. But there's nothing wrong with them _both_ feeling good, is there? It might even get a bigger response from Dick.

Bruce opens his fly, moving his pants and underwear to pull himself out of his pants. He's half-hard already, and he takes both himself and Dick into his hand, their cocks rubbing against each other. Dick's hips buck, legs jerking, and Bruce smiles.

"Yes, that's better," he says. "I should've done this before. You've always been a selfless person, Dickie; of course you'd want to not be the only one feeling good."

He strokes them both to completion, Dick letting out a soft moan as he comes. Bruce looks at the way his release stains his boy's stomach, and it truly makes him feel like _his boy._

Dick is retreating into himself again, body falling still now that they're done, and Bruce watches it happen sadly. He leans in to kiss Dick one final time, trying to convey how much he loves him as he licks deeply into Dick's pliant mouth.

"I'll get you back, chum," Bruce whispers. "One step at a time."

* * *

He does it again, and again.

Dick has much more of a response when Bruce is also feeling good, and it's so good to draw out more noises, more movements. When he slots himself between Dick's legs and grinds against him, he even gets what sounds like a whimper.

It keeps escalating. Getting these reactions are addicting, _Dick_ is addicting. He misses his boy so much, misses his smiles and his laughter and his _movement,_ and right now this is all he can get from him. He wants Dick back so badly it _burns,_ and he's trying so hard to bring Dick to the surface. He knows Dick will be grateful, they'll _all_ be grateful. They'll all be happy to have Dick back to the way he's supposed to be.

And maybe Dick will remember all of this, remember how much Bruce did for him, how good he made Dick feel. Maybe Dick will come back for more.

One day, when he's climbing onto the bed to start another one of their sessions, he lands eyes on Dick's penis and can't resist the sudden urge in him. He shuffles further down the bed and leans in, taking Dick into his mouth.

He's very good at giving blowjobs, and he pulls out all the stops, all the tricks he knows to make his partner feel good. And Dick twitches and draws in small gasps beneath him, and Bruce glows with the knowledge that _he_ is doing this to Dick. Only he has the ability to help his boy this way.

He lets Dick come down his throat and swallows it all, pulling off with a pop and then moving up to kiss Dick deeply, letting his boy taste his own release on his tongue. Dick's eyebrows twitch downward, and Bruce rubs the furrow away with his thumb.

"I know how confused you must be," he murmurs. "You're trying so hard to come back to me, I know. Don't worry, it's okay. I won't give up on you."

* * *

He does it again, and again.

Bruce gets used to the taste of Dick on his tongue, the feeling of Dick in his hand, the shape of his body, what spots are sensitive and what spots do nothing for him. He gives it his all, gives _Dick_ his all, everything his boy deserves, has _always_ deserved.

He's giving Dick a blowjob when the thought occurs to him—people always make jokes about Dick's ass, what if the boy is very sensitive there? What if that will really help draw Dick out of himself?

He's very careful while turning Dick onto his stomach. He makes sure Dick's limbs don't get caught on anything, aren't twisted in uncomfortable positions. He puts a pillow under Dick's hips to make everything easier, and then takes Dick's ass in his hands, squeezing the cheeks and humming with pleasure at how firm they are. His boy is so beautiful.

Bruce leans down, pulling Dick's ass cheeks apart to give him room, and then thrusts his tongue inside of him. Dick jerks, hands twitching, and Bruce smiles, pleased. Then he really gets to work.

Sure enough, this really draws a reaction out of Dick. He twitches and jerks and trembles beneath him, even almost dislodging Bruce a few times in his enthusiasm. It makes Bruce work even harder, but it's not enough, there's another idea in Bruce's head about how to _really_ get a reaction.

His heart speeds up in his chest.

"What do you think, chum?" Bruce asks, pressing a kiss to the swell of Dick's ass. "Should we go for it?"

Dick, of course, doesn't respond, but Bruce sits back up anyway, reaching for the bedside table where he'd placed a bottle of lube back when he started all of this. He pours a liberal amount of it onto his fingers and then adjusts the pillow beneath Dick, lifting Dick's hips a little higher.

"Ready?" Bruce asks, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down Dick's back. He pushes a finger inside of Dick, murmuring soothing things when Dick whimpers. He moves his finger slowly in and out for a while; the absolutely last thing he wants to do is hurt his boy. So he takes his time, waiting until his finger moves with completely no resistance before inserting a second, and taking just as long with that before pushing in a third.

Dick continues to twitch beneath him, breath hitching audibly, and Bruce curls his fingers, searching. When he finds Dick's prostate it's instantly recognizable, Dick letting out a moan beneath him.

Bruce's heart pounds in his chest. That's the loudest he's heard Dick sound to date!

He draws his fingers out and wipes them off on the sheets. He pulls on a condom—not wanting to come inside him, not yet, not until Dick is able to beg him to—and then lubes up his cock. He shuffles forward and lines up his cock, then pushes inside of his boy.

Dick lets out an odd noise, something between a whimper and a keen, and Bruce rolls his hips forward in a testing thrust. Dick gasps, fingers curling. Bruce does it again, and again, and again.

He doesn't rush, doesn't try to force it. He wants this to be as good for Dick as possible, wants to draw out each and every noise and movement he can, make this last as long as he can.

He soaks in Dick's reactions, high on the gasps and moans, on the jerks of his hips, on the way his body tenses and relaxes over and over again. Bruce is rock hard and so very close, but this is about Dick, so Bruce angles for his prostate and reaches underneath him to wrap a hand around his cock. Pride rushes through him at the fact that Dick is just as hard as he is.

"Come for me, Dickie," Bruce says, voice gravelly. "Come on, my boy. Come for me, and come back to me."

Dick comes with a whimper, a shudder running through his body, and Bruce follows him over the edge soon after.

He leans down and presses a gentle kiss between Dick's shoulder blades. He rubs at Dick's hips soothingly and then pulls back, careful as he pulls out of his boy. He removes the condom and then ties it off, tucking it into his pocket to dispose of later.

Just as careful as when he pulled out, he rolls Dick onto his back. Dick is shivering slightly, and Bruce rubs at his arms and legs; they didn't really do much, but maybe Dick is especially sensitive and needs aftercare. Bruce is happy to take care of him.

His eyes are open, staring up at the ceiling vacantly, teardrops hanging onto his lashes. Bruce brushes his eyelids closed with his thumb and presses a gentle kiss to each of them. He leaves only briefly to grab a washcloth, and he cleans Dick up, making sure he looks the same way he did before Bruce came in. He leaves nothing to make Alfred suspicious.

Bruce presses a kiss to Dick's lips and hums, pleased, when Dick's lips part easily beneath him.

"There you go, Dickie," Bruce says. "Little by little."

* * *

He does it again, and again.

Dick's responses plateau; they stop getting any bigger, but they don't regress at all.

Bruce still tells himself that he's going to get his boy back, and this is the way to do it. The reactions _will_ get bigger, he just knows it. He just has to keep doing what he's doing, and eventually Dick will come back to him.

And in the meantime? Well, at least he has a piece of Dick that no one else does.


End file.
